The Photographer
by MightyCopernicus
Summary: The Teensy Photographer goes out on a search for a fairy hive, alone. Mostly a dribble of personal headcanons.
1. The Memory

It doesn't rain much in the Dream Forest, but when it does, it's best to be indoors. Lucky for the small Photographer, he had re-discovered the old tent just in time. As Cameron entered, he could hear the sound of the rain becoming heavier, followed by the first loud roar of thunder.

 _Perfect timing._

He looked around the old, rustic tent. The nostalgia was overwhelming. Everything looked untouched from the last time he was here, only this time he's alone.

It just didn't feel right being here without the other Photographer.

Putting his satchel to the side, Cameron sits down in a soft bundle of blankets. He lays back trying his best to not let his mind wander to the obvious topic. His eyes traced the tented ceiling's mystic patterns, then to the teapot and kettle in the corner, then to the empty film cases nearby.

The _other_ Photographer.

His presence was still warm in his mind. The two of them were so similar in nature and appearance, but they each had their own quirky differences at the same time. Two photographers, one a teensy, the other a limbless thingamajig from Picture City. Cameron mainly preferred digital photography while Alrayzen always stuck with the traditional route. Cameron would always simply wear a binder, but Al always heavily layered his clothes. He couldn't understand how the man never overheated under that heavy coat and scarf.

They were so similar but unique in their own ways. Like they were made for one another.

The little photographer felt his chest become heavier.

 _The film cases... that's right. The fairy hive._

He still remembers Alray telling him in broken sign language about "the fairy hive" in the hills. He had almost forgotten. That was the whole reason he was here. To find this supposed hive, a crystal cave previously home to an ancient generation of ludivs.

 _How did he say it again_?

Cameron mimicked the signs with his hands while translating it aloud in a hushed voice.

"In the hills, I have seen... a cave of crystals, just like the Fairy Council, but more beautiful. Saw it when I was a young lad. Now I dream to see it again, and to take pictures. To immortalize the adventure."

Cameron stopped himself, and put his hands down.

 _I'm not going to cry._

He laid down in the blanket bundle, shutting his eyes tight as if to block away every intruding bad thought and painful memory trying to make its way into his mind. He found solace in the eventual hold of sleep.


	2. The Fantasy

Loud thunder awoke the sleeping teensy. He sat up, with his first thoughts being that the pirates or hoodlums had somehow come back, but he quickly remembered the storm outside.

That storm was the whole reason he was even sleeping here and not out there.

Cameron let out a small sigh and looked around the tent, half-expecting the other Photographer to be there, either sleeping, fiddling with his camera, looking through old photographs, but of course he wasn't there.

This tent which was once alive with playful banter felt lonely now. All he could really think about at the moment was how nice it would be to sleep in an actual house. A friend's house. Preferable cuddling, just enough to put the loneliness to rest.

He laid back down, feeling a little warmer and happier just thinking about it.

The original Photographer was right about him.

"You are such a softie! A hopeless romantic! Getting crushes on everyone, always wanting to hold someone or to be held!"

Cameron could help giggle to himself. It was true. He was very affectionate with everyone close to him. The original Photographer playfully teased him for being this way all the time, despite never declining an offer to cuddle, a kiss on the face, or Cameron's request of holding hands. It simply was Cameron's nature with all his dearest friends, or at least the ones who were comfortable with it.

There still was always one person Cameron wanted desperately to be very affectionate with. Not just anyone. One of his own clients in fact. His most _regular_ client.

Count Razoff. A name he scribbled in his work notebook alongside with dozens of hearts.

The little photographer felt his face burn red from just from the thought of his name. Originally just one of many minor crushes that quickly turned head-over-heels as they begun to work together more and more. The original Photographer had never gotten the chance to know about this particular crush, but he still remembers what Alray had told him about another client crush he had a long time ago.

"Cameron, I'm unsure about mixing work and romance, but as my dearest friend, I support you! Just don't take your own wedding photographs. I'll do it for free!"

His held his flustered face, smiling at the memory.

The other Photographer had even tried to help Cameron confess. They had run over countless scenarios regarding what to say, how to say it, and when to say it. Sometimes the scenarios were serious and to reassure the small Photographer how no matter when or where he said it, it wouldn't matter, as long as the words were right. Most of the time they were simply jokes.

An old scenario re-runs in Cameron's head. The teensy at the his crush's front door with a bouquet and a bad pick-up line, followed by something along the lines of, "It would be an honor to be able to spend time with the most handsome and wonderful man of all of Glade!"

It's so cheap, but he can't help but love it! A new scenario made its way to mind, involving the living room of the count, a warm fireplace, followed by sitting with the man he loved the most in the world in a warm embrace.

 _Of course it had to get worse. Geez._

He was embarrassed to admit that these kind of made-up scenarios ran through his mind a lot. Fantasies of crushes becoming romantic relationships. The dates that could result. Confessing and finding out his feeling are returned... as well as the more embarrassing fantasies he could never bring himself to tell anyone else.

The fantasy continues to play out in his mind. The count, holding his hand. His face so close to his own. Cameron with his eyes glimmering and his face flushed red, finally blurting out the thing he's been wanting to say for a long time.

"I really love you! You are the most amazing person in all of Glade, and I want to be with you! I've never met anyone as incredible and charming and handsome and clever as you! I love you! I love you so, so much!"

Cameron being too shy to look Razoff in the eyes, even in fantasy. The warmth from that imagery fireplace radiating on him, and the way the count's hand moves to his face so gently all felt too real.

"Cameron..."

 _That voice..._

"Do you..."

...

"Do you really think that you mean anything to me?"

 _W-what? Huh?_

"You're so silly, aren't you? You're my photographer!"

 _No, wait... please._

"I mean, we are practically business partners. That's all!" He laughed.

 _But... I-I thought we were more that that!_

The scenery around Cameron felt darker. Nothing radiates nor touches him. His heart feels as if it's sinking into his stomach.

Cameron can only reply in a shaky voice with eyes full of tears, "I don't... understand..."

"I think you understand perfectly well."

 _That voice..._

Yellow lights glow in front of him.

 _That's not his voice.._

The only thing he can see as the lights brighten up the room is a familiar shade of dark blue.

 _Not lights. Eyes._

White gloves move close to him accompanied by a sinister voice.

 _Mister Dark!_

"Why do you persist?" the voice bellowed.

Cameron, no longer able control his breathing, stays still, with tears still rolling down his face.

"Polokus didn't even bother to make you right. Another addition to the collection of misfits. "

Cameron clutched his chest, trying to get a grip on himself.

"You really think you could be anything more than an outcast to anyone?"

Mortified, he can't take his eyes off of him. His body no longer feeling like his own, and his conscience feeling like it's drifting miles away.

"You are not worthy..."

He can't speak.

 _Why can't I speak?! He... HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING!_

"and you know your worth, Alrayzen."

Cameron gasped for air, quickly sitting upright. He looked around his environment. The same tent walls. The same kettle and teapot from before.

Dreaming. That's all he was doing. It was all just a terrible nightmare.

Breathing rapidly, he touched his face, wet from tears he cried in his dreams. He held his stomach tightly, shut his eyes, and continued to cry.


	3. The Guilt

The little photographer did his best to not slip on the stepping stones in the river. There was absolutely no way he would let anything happen to his camera, and to a lesser extent, himself. This was the only way across the river to the hillside.

One hop. Two hops. In no time had he crossed. Simple enough.

Now all that was left was to aimlessly wonder about, and hope to stumble into the hive. The other Photographer had not left much information on how to get there.

 _What if it was dream, Alray? Then what? What am I looking for?_

Another memory came to mind about what his friend had told him.

"I know my memory is a little foggy, but I know for certain it was real! In the cave I had pricked my thumb on a pink thorn, and by the end day the mark was still with me. Strange though. I don't remember how I entered the cave, or how I left. Why in the world, would I see a beautiful place and not take a photo? I don't fully understand it myself, my small friend."

Cameron sighed. At this point he wasn't sure what to believe. His story didn't add up right, but he had no reason to lie, and this place something that Al was very determined to rediscover, and since he was no longer here, Cameron was determined to do his best to fulfill his dream for him.

 _It's not like doing this will bring him back... He's not coming back even if you do this._

Annoyed, Cameron responded to his own thoughts aloud, "No. I just want to do this to honor his memory. This could be closure."

 _But what if the hive doesn't even exist, huh? Even if it did and you found it right now, will it really fix everything? It's not your fault he's gone."_

Cameron shut his eyes again.

"Maybe it-"

His footing slipped and he tumbled downwards, hitting a few smooth boulders on the way, landing in a patch of soft dirt. He was unharmed, but he had the feeling he was going to have an ugly bruise or two for a couple of weeks.

"Oh great job, ya frickin' moron! Next time watch you're going and maybe you won't fall right in a-"

He stopped and looked around his dark, rocky environment. Soft blue lights from bioluminescent mushrooms allowed him enough light to make everything out.

"cave?"

He checked to see if his camera was still working, and took a picture in the direction he had tumbled down. The flash briefly lit the cave enough for Cameron to make out a high ceiling. He looked at the picture to see a some light where the entrance of the cave was, and next to it were long, pink, thorny vines.

 _Pink thorns? But there are pink plants with thorns everywhere in glade. That doesn't mean anything just yet._

He followed a trial of mushrooms a bit deeper in the cave. As he walked the mushrooms grew in numbers, and eventually started appearing in different colors. First blue, then green, then yellow, orange, red, purple, and pink. The walls also become more textured, and engrained with crystals, just like the ones at the fairy council.

His state of awe was broken when the trail of mushrooms had stopped at a broken geode-like rock near a small glowing pond.

 _So this place was really was like a nursery for ludivs._

He touched the colorful, bright crystal walls, and took a step back, taking in his current environment. It really had to be one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen.

"Well," his voice echoed, "I'm here Alrayzen! I made it!"

His echo served as a reminder that he was all alone in this once lively place.

"I made it, but... you didn't."

 _Coming here was his dream, not mine._

"So what's even the point? I mean... this doesn't change anything. You're still gone."

Tears quickly flooded down his face.

"I'm still never going to see you again, right? What was I thinking? Coming here alone... I don't want to be here if it's not with you!"

He continued to cry, sitting himself down, and tucking himself into almost a fetal position.

"I don't want to take pictures without you! I'm sorry! I should have done more to protect you! I loved you more than anything in the world! You knew that, right?"

 _It's not your fault._

"Maybe it is my fault... I could have done something, anything. I could have... I don't know..."

 _It's not your fault Space Mama disappeared. It's not your fault the pirates came. It's not your fault they enslaved all those people... and Alrayzen._

His breathing slowed a bit.

 _Turn around, Cameron._

Cameron immediately felt weary and confused by this sudden thought, but he obliged.

A familiar face stood in front of him.

"Alray? Al?! Is that really... No! It can't be!"

The shocked teensy could only think this was another cruel mind game. Another nightmare, only this time in the flesh.

The original Photographer signed, "I'm sorry. It's me, but it is also not me. I can't tell you for sure."

"My... sub-conscience?" It was the only explanation that didn't frighten him but also made some sense.

Alray considered this, "Perhaps so..."

The little teensy knew this wasn't really him, but still slowly approached him and considered his next move. After looking at him for a few seconds, he opened his arms and hugged the limbless thingamajig, almost expecting to not feel anything upon contact, but to his surprise, his hug was returned.

 _Warm, just like I remember him._

He felt his knees give out, and he sunk to the ground still holding on to the image of his lost friend.

Alray leaned back, taking his hands away from the teensy just to communicate, "Still a softie, how unsurprising." The little Photographer couldn't help but laugh, despite his face still being wet from all the crying.

"Before this ends, my friend. I must tell you something."

Cameron felt his heart racing again. He couldn't speak, despite how much he wanted to. The air even felt colder to him. All he could do was nod.

"You must promise to not blame yourself anymore. You must also promise to not blame Polokus either. Life can feel unfair and cruel, but it can be so wonderful and beautiful too, so take lots of pictures of it. Don't forget that, okay?"

Cameron could only nod. He could only hold on to his friend for so long before beginning to feel lightheaded. It was like his conscience was drifting away again. Miles and miles away.


	4. The Closure

"Heelllloooooo? Dorothy, tap your heels and come back to Kansas, the Land of Oz is a dump anyway! Come on, man! Don't go into the light! Stay away from the - oh, you're awake!"

The little teensy awoke.

 _Billy West, is that you?_

"Oh... Murfy!" Cameron said, lifting himself up and looking around.

 _The Dream Forest. I'm still here._

"Here, allow me." the green fly said, helping the teensy back on his feet.

"Thanks!" Cameron smiled, "Uhm hold on, what happened?"

Murfy gave a fake laugh while looking at Cameron confused look, "I dunno, you tell me! I was just minding my business, doing fly stuff, ya know, like eating trash and flying around trash, when I saw you lying here all unconscientious and whatnot and thought, hey uh... what?"

 _He's always so sarcastic. I wonder if he's actually ever eaten garbage though._

"Oh... I just could have sworn I was in a cave or something," Cameron said wearily.

"A cave? Ain't no caves around these parts, I should know! I got-"

"Yeah yeah, the manual."

"Uhhh, I was gonna say an intricate understanding of the layout of the land, but whatever. I'm more than just a manual guy, ya know? Anyway, I gotta get back to some important garbage business or something. Try not to pass out again, Carmen!"

"It's Cameron!" he shouted to the flying insect overhead.

"Right, Cameron! That's what I said!"

The fly was too far gone for him to see the confused look on Cameron's face. He was still trying to process what had happened to him. He looked on the ground near the spot he was laying to see a smooth, slippery stone.

 _I guess that's what made me fall._

He remembered his camera and quickly checked his most recent pictures, but nothing was there. No photograph of the cave entrance with the long pink vines.

 _Sweet Polokus, what was it that I ate that got me to have all these crazy, vivid dreams._

He shivered, not knowing whether he was actually feeling cold, shaken up, or some kind of strange spiritual connection to his friend. People always said they were so similar. Like they were made for each other. Like their souls were connected somehow.

The little photographer picked up his satchel and continued walking.

 _I guess I did get to see the fairy hive, sort of._

He smiled.

 _And I guess I did find some closure._


End file.
